


Proximity

by orchestralstab



Series: Falling [2]
Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Drabble, Drinking & Talking, Drunkenness, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Making Out, POV Third Person, POV Third Person Limited
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-10-28 05:36:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10824867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orchestralstab/pseuds/orchestralstab
Summary: She’s seen Dr Lexi’s psychological profile of the Pathfinder Ryder – “a tendency towards analytical thinking and intellectual curiosity” – and, yeah, it’s the truth but not when it comes to her personal, potentially romantic, relationships. Logic shouldn’t come into it. Because logic would tell her to get out of the car entirely and frankly that can fuck right off.* Disjointed but connected pieces exploring Avery Ryder's and Liam Kosta's developing relationship. Mature rating is for coarse language and sexual references. *





	1. The Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my first drabble *pew*

Avery doesn’t believe in love at first sight.

Never has, never will.

She’s inherited too much of her father’s analytical mind to fall for such bullshit. (If anyone tried to say that to her, though, she’d punch them. Because _she’s_ allowed to recognise her father in herself but no one fucking else is, goddamnit.)

But, as she tries and fails not to stare at the guy waving at her from across Cryo, she thinks she might believe in something… something _new_. Like, “Oh, my god, I _hope_ I fall in love with you eventually” at first sight.

Because damn.

_Goddamn_.


	2. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set immediately after Uncertainty Entwined

Avery spends the hours between 0100 and 0600 of that night dozing and thinking and _ruminating_ (such a good fucking word). But by the time the day shift rolls around and she has to get up despite the dark circles under her eyes and the mess in her head, she’s no closer to knowing exactly what it is she wants other than that she wants there to be the possibility of _something_ with Liam. Which is a start, she guesses. At least it’s better than what she’s sure the Milky Way version of herself would have concluded: “The sex was excellent so more sex, please!” And, yeah, current-reality-her wants more of that too but … maybe not right away? Because maybe slowing down this hurtling car is better than letting it gather momentum only for it to crash into a brick wall.

Shit. Five hours of fitful sleeping and fitful thinking have not gotten her anywhere better than a horrible car metaphor which, while apt considering who she’s thinking about, is nevertheless not the best that she can do.

She’s seen Dr Lexi’s psychological profile of the Pathfinder Ryder – “a tendency towards analytical thinking and intellectual curiosity” – and, yeah, it’s the truth but not when it comes to her personal, potentially romantic, relationships. Logic shouldn’t come into it. Because logic would tell her to get out of the car entirely and frankly that can fuck right off.

She groans and stretches. There’s really no more time for this. “SAM, is there anything pressing I need to attend to or do I have time for a shower?”

“Dr Anwar would like you to go over some scientific reports with her before she sends them to the Nexus but she is not expecting you at the bridge presently,” says SAM. “Your report to Director Tann on the kett facility on Voeld will also be expected later today.”

“Is there time for a shower, SAM?” she asks again because that’s the important bit.

“Yes. If you don’t tarry. Dr T’Perro has also asked me to remind you to eat a hearty breakfast every day.”

Avery rolls her eyes. “As though we have access to hearty food. But I get the point. Shower first, then breakfast, then Suvi, then stupid pointless Tann report.”

“Would you like me to make an itemised list, Avery?”

She smiles. SAM’s not really capable of sarcasm but it does stumble towards that territory sometimes, in ways that make her miss Scott more than she already does. “Nah, SAM. I think I’ll be good.”

Cora is stepping out of the shower stall when Avery goes into the bathroom. She gives Avery the kind of smile she’s come to expect from her, warm but guarded. “Plenty of hot water left,” she says, towelling off her hair.

“Excellent,” says Avery and she takes off what passes for pyjamas for her (a too big t-shirt, socks and underwear) and walks into the shower stall. She gives out a loud groan as the hot water hits her. Such a tiny luxury that does so much good for her morale.

“Hey,” Cora calls out to her over the sound of the water. “I just wanted to warn you that you might get a few comments and looks today.”

Avery snorts out a laugh. “Already got some on my way to bed.”

“Shit. Peebee. I’m sorry, Ryder, I tried to warn her not to but…”

She sighs and presses her forehead to the tiles of the shower stall, letting the water cascade down onto her head. “Not your job, Harper,” she says, then winces at how harsh it sounds. “But thank you. It means a lot that you went to bat for me.”

“Not a problem. It’s a small ship but I don’t think it’s impossible to keep out of each other’s business, just … a little more difficult. If it helps, I don’t think there’s any malice to it.”

“I know. I know. And, don’t get me wrong, I like running a casual ship. It’s good that we can be friends and know stuff about each others’ lives. I’m more than fine with that. But I wasn’t exactly prepared for all this to come out so soon.”

“Yeah. I know. But, uh, maybe think about using a soundproofed room next time?”

And Avery laughs because suddenly it’s all pretty hilarious. _Fucking hell, dad would not be proud of me right now._ “Don’t worry. Lesson learned. You can trust me on that one.”

Cora’s chuckle is more uninhibited than what Avery has come to expect from her. “And, uh, sorry, by the way,” says Cora. “For bringing this up. I didn’t want to breach any boundaries but thought it would be worthwhile giving you a heads up. And, on that note, I’ll leave you be.”

Freshly showered and feeling slightly more prepared for the day with her customary winged eyeliner and pink lipstick applied, Avery heads to the galley.

“Ryder!” calls Gil as soon as she’s through the door. “So, hey, um, can I ask–”

Vetra slaps ( _Clatters? Onomatopoeias: meh._ ) her hand down on the dining table. “Gil. Don’t even start. Or I swear to the spirits I will space you.”

“Shit. When did Cora die and make you mum?”

And it may be due to lack of sleep or Avery’s natural propensity towards finding humour wherever she can, even (or especially) when she’s embarrassed, but before she can think better of it she’s laughing. Yep, she’s decided that this whole thing is definitely becoming hilarious.

Gil’s grin is huge. “See, Vetra? Ryder’s cool. You’re cool, right Ryder?”

Avery rifles through the cupboards, searching for something, _anything_ that could fit Lexi’s definition of hearty. “I’m probably closer to being room temperature, to be honest.”

“Aww,” says Gil. “So not up for some gentle teasing?”

“Not just yet.”

“See, I told you,” says Vetra. “Don’t even start.” Then, as Avery reaches for a box of cereal, she warns, “Dextro.”

“Shit,” says Avery. “Thanks.”

“Alright, alright,” says Gil, as Avery picks up a protein bar instead. “I’ll save my quips for later. And, believe me when I say this, they’re _good_.”

“I bet,” says Avery as she pours herself some coffee to go along with the bar. She takes a sip and sits across from Gil in one of the swivel chairs. And, because she can’t help herself, she adds, “But, you know, I’m sure I’ll be able to come up with some even better ones than yours once I’ve had a decent night’s rest. I barely _slept_ last night.”

Gil laughs long and loud. Vetra, on the other hand, rolls her eyes and gets up from her seat in the booth. “Alright. I’m done here.”

“Sorry, Vetra,” says Avery and she’s being genuine even though it’s taking too long for the smile to fall from her face. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Vetra pats Avery on the back, a surprisingly reassuring gesture despite the claws. “Nah. I’m just grumpy. Didn’t get much sleep last night either. There were some truly horrific sounds coming from the room next to mine.”

“Oh!” shouts Gil. “The Nyx shoots and scores!”

And Avery’s giggling so helplessly into her hands that she doesn’t even realise that Vetra has left until she finally manages to get herself under control by taking slow, deep breaths. She wipes her eyes and says to Gil, “You know, I’m really not ready for ‘isn’t it hilarious that Ryder got laid?’ to be a thing. But I can’t deny one bit that it’s already made for some excellent laughs.”

Gil nods. “I get that. We’ll put it on hold for now.”

Avery takes a bite of protein bar. _Ugh._ Dry. She washes it down with a swig of coffee. “I found those fake poker notes, by the way.”

“Oh yeah,” says Gil. “Thoughts?”

“Just one,” she says. “You are a twisted son of a bitch, you know that right?”

He laughs. “You’re far from the first person to say that.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. You should be in politics, not engineering.” She takes another bite then sip. “So what exactly is your end game here?”

He shrugs. “Haven’t figured that out yet. I’m still shoring up the first threads of the web.”

“Oh my god, Gil,” she says, “that _metaphor_ …”

“Creepy?”

“Creepy.”

He shrugs again. “Whatever. I’ll own it.”

The galley door opens and Avery swivels around in her chair to see who it is.

“Gil, Ryder,” says Liam, as he heads straight to the coffee pot. “How’s it going?”

“Good,” says Avery, trying not to smile and trying not to notice Gil noticing her trying not to smile, and failing at both. She takes another bite of the protein bar and looks down into her coffee mug instead of at Liam like she’d prefer. _Shit, he’s hot._ And it’s not like it’s the first time she’s noticed that, far from it. She’d thought it from the moment she first set eyes on him as they sat across from one another in the Cryo Bay. But she’s seen him naked now, he’s made her cum … _twice_. How can she ever look at him again without thinking about those very stirring and very true facts?

“Okay,” says Gil, after the silence stretches on. “This is awkward. I think that’s my cue to leave.” He stands up and Avery could slap him.

“Oh, come on!” says Liam. “You just _made_ it awkward by saying that it was awkward.”

“Maybe,” says Gil. “Still, I’m gonna leave the awkward in this room and hope that it doesn’t follow me.”

“Oh, my god, you’re such an ass,” says Avery as Gil leaves the room laughing.

Liam trails a hand across her back as he walks around her chair to take Gil’s abandoned seat and the simple contact is nice, just enough for her to forget all about stupid Gil. He takes a sip of his coffee and smiles at her. “Hey.”

She laughs softly. “Hey.” She can’t stop smiling, but it’s hard not to when his hair is still adorably rumpled by sleep and other things, and his eyes have that ‘just woke up’ softness to them and … ugh, he’s so pretty if she were capable of crying she probably would. “Got anything planned for the day?”

He nods. “I’ve got some work to do. After our talk last night, I think I’ve come up with something.”

“That’s right, we did talk, didn’t we?”

He chuckles. “Yeah. Before all the other stuff.” He drums his fingers on the tabletop. “So about that … this isn’t weird for you, is it?”

And she shakes her head. Because it isn’t. Apart from the fact that she can’t glance at him without remembering how he looked when he came. But, other than that, it isn’t weird. All things considered, they’re still friends and that isn’t likely to change despite everything that _has_ changed. “Do you think it is?”

“Nah. I’m good, you’re good, _it_ was great. Things get close on a ship like this. Stuff happens. Rarely that great. But it happens.”

“You’re not gonna hear any complaints from me, Liam. And I’m guessing that goes both ways?”

“Oh, yeah. You bet it did. Make no mistake.”

She relaxes back into her chair, nursing her mug of coffee between both of her hands. She takes a long, slow drink and sighs. Just being with him is so… She flounders for the right word. Pleasant? Comforting? _Uplifting_. Being with him is so uplifting. It always has been, but it’s good to know that sex hasn’t ruined that, that it’s actually enhanced the feeling.

She gives him a considering look over the rim of her mug. “So, where to from here?”

He shrugs. “One night can be one night if that’s what you want. I won’t get clingy.” He takes a swig of coffee. “But I won’t run either. So … maybe we keep this in mind for the future, when shit isn’t so hectic? No pressure.”

She nods. “We’ve both got a lot going on but … yeah, let’s see where this goes, keep the door open. _Wide_ open.”

“Well, then,” he says, then lets out a shaky laugh. “Glad to hear it. This nervousness right here? Most normal I've felt since we got to Andromeda. Maybe we could spend some time off-ship just... doing stuff. Like visiting Aya? I've got some things I'd like your eyes on. No rush. Unlike … everything else.”

“So… a date?”

“Date,” he agrees.

“I’d like that. I’d like that a lot, actually. A little bit of normalcy in this chaos would be nice.”

She drops a hand to the table and slides it toward him but quickly loses her nerve and hesitates. Before she can withdraw, he meets her halfway, lacing their fingers together and giving her hand a gentle squeeze. And, still, she can’t stop smiling. Shit, she feels like she’s thirteen again and sharing her very first kiss with a shy drell boy from her biotics class on the Citadel. Though, of course, she’d gotten actually high from that touch (“No more kissing drell boys until you’re older, Avery!” her mother had ordered after she’d been sent home early from school for her uncontrollable giggling and disruptive, tangential explanations on subjects she had no clue about) and it’s merely her wildly thumping heart that’s causing her light-headedness now.

“Ryder?” Suvi’s voice sounds out over the comm. “Ready to look over those reports?”

Avery sighs. “Be right there, Suvi.” She finishes off her protein bar and washes it down with the rest of her coffee. “Sorry,” she says to Liam, squeezing his hand before withdrawing hers. “Duty calls. We’ll be setting course for Aya later today. We should be there by late morning tomorrow. We’ll meet once I get through all the work I have to do there, okay? I’ll make time…” For him. For her. For this. For _them_. The words go unspoken but they’re there. Just like the growing certainty in the pit of her stomach that, yes, more of this is exactly what she wants.


	3. Aya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Aya "date" made into an actual date, albeit an irresponsible one. AKA: Ryder gets druuuunk.

The date on Aya is not what Avery expects. But the fact that he gets her to break the law all for the purpose of making a difference is so damn Liam that it’s hard for her to be upset over it. Plus he’s so contrite about it, and she wants to tell him to shut up, that she’d do _anything_ for him (which is … concerning, as well as being a big ball of awesome that makes her feel dizzy) but she forces the words back. Big declarations like that are not in keeping with the whole ‘seeing where this goes’ thing that they’ve both decided on. So, while she’d like to kiss him senseless regardless of Drack and the barman, she thinks better of it.

“You remain amazing,” says Liam. And Avery thinks, _No, I’m not, I’m really not. I just point my gun at things and get forced to make the big decisions that no one else is stupid enough to make._ You’re _the amazing one._ But the conversation moves forward before she can take that point from her mind to her mouth and all of a sudden they’re talking about a third date before they’ve even finished their first.

“Alright, third date’s set,” she says. “But you can’t tell me that me almost getting arrested is the end to this one. So, what’s next?”

He shrugs. “We get pissed?”

And she knows that he’s joking but… “Alright then. Let’s get pissed.”

His eyes are as wide as his smile. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. Fuck it. Let’s get blasted.” She catches the attention of the barman. “Whatever won’t poison us, my good man.”

The barman rolls his eyes but pours for them all the same.

She holds up her glass. “Bottom’s up.”

“Wait!” Liam lurches for her arm but before he can reach her she’s downed the liquid in several long gulps that she instantly regrets.

“Oh, my god!” she chokes. “That tastes awf– some. _Awesome_.” Then, as sweetly as she can manage while her throat’s on fire, “Another, please.”

“Don’t humour me,” the barman says as he pours. “I know it tastes terrible to you. This one,” he points to Liam, “has already indicated this to me.”

Liam shrugs. “Tried to warn you, Ryder. Drink it slow and it’ll hurt less.”

She rubs at her eyes, which are already blurring and, shit, she just knows that tomorrow is going to be fucking horrible for her. “This shit’s strong.”

“Another reason to drink it slow,” he says as he takes a slow sip of his drink, wincing the whole way through. “Mm … trashy goodness.”

Across the bar from them, Drack takes a huge gulp of his drink. “Don’t know what you kids are complaining about. Tastes fine to me.”

“Says the guy who eats tree roots,” says Avery and Drack lets out one of his customary approving guffaws.

Liam leans in close to her. “Is it weird that granddad’s right here for our date?” he asks quietly.

“I heard that. I may be old but I’ve still got krogan senses.”

Avery laughs. “Nah,” she says to Liam. “Fancy ladies like me need chaperones.”

He smiles. “You _are_ fancy.”

“Oh, the fanciest,” she says and takes a big mouthful of her drink, once again immediately regretting it. “Does this really get better when you drink it slower?”

He shrugs. “I guess it depends on your perspective. Would you rather drink rubbish or fire?”

She shakes her head. “Oh no, we are not playing ‘would you rather’.”

“No one ever wants to,” he huffs.

“Look, I just don’t see the point in picking between two unlikely hypothetical situations.” She takes a slow sip and swills it around in her mouth before swallowing. “Actually, I’ve made a choice. Fire.” She takes a large gulp and grimaces as she swallows. “All the way.”

“Shit, I am going to be in so much trouble when Lexi finds out about this.” He matches her gulp and grimace. “Nah. I’m definitely preferring the rubbish.”

She laughs. “Trash for you. Searing pain for me. Got it.” She finishes off her drink and gestures at the barman for another pour. “You won’t just be in trouble with Lexi, by the way,” she says after the barman’s done. “You’ll probably have to deal with my two moms, too.”

Liam’s brow furrows. “Your two…? Who?” He holds up his hand before she can answer. “Wait. I think I can guess this.” He strokes his chin in theatrical deep thought. “Vetra’s definitely got to be one of them. She’s hardcore mum-friend material.”

Avery makes a gun with her fingers and shoots it with a _pew-pew_ noise.

He takes a long, slow sip of his drink and says, “The other one… Cora, for sure. She’s proper mumsy when you give her half a chance.”

She shoots her fingergun again then holsters it with an exaggerated flurry.

“So, just for interest’s sake, if you had to pick one…?”

She holds up a hand and shakes her head. “Uh-uh. What’d I say about ‘would you rather’?”

He rolls his eyes as he takes another sip of his drink. “Alright then. _Fine_. But if we’re gonna do this,” he gestures vaguely between them, “then I’m gonna need some other way to get to know you better. So … favourites?”

She nods. “Favourites. I can do favourites.” Then she leans in close and says, “Just in case you didn’t already know, _you’re_ my favourite.” He gives her a pleased little smile that would melt her heart if her whole body weren’t already drowning in burning angaran liquor and … _shit_ , definitely falling.

“I heard that, too,” Drack calls out.

Avery slaps her hand down on the bar and does the best impersonation of her fifteen-year-old self that she can muster under the circumstances (so, in other words, pretty fucking accurate). “Oh, my god, grandpa. Shh! You’re embarrassing me in front of my date.”

Drack laughs. “No more than you’re embarrassing yourself.”

She gulps down another mouthful of liquid fire and shrugs. “Fair point.”

Liam laughs and finishes off his drink, which is immediately refilled by the barman. “Thanks. Worth your weight in gold, man,” he says, then as the barman raises a brow ridge at him, “Shit. That probably doesn’t translate over. Never mind, never mind. You’re awesome. Okay?”

The barman nods and moves away to serve another customer.

Avery pats Liam on the shoulder. “Oh, my god, Liam. I think he just _smiled_.”

He shrugs. “What can I say? Patented Kosta charm.” He takes a sip of his drink. “But we were gonna talk favourites. So … favourite place on the Citadel?”

“Hmm,” she hums, then takes a mouthful of her drink to aid her thinking. (Which is stupid. She knows it’s stupid. This drink does nothing good for her ability to think clearly.) “When I was a kid I used to love watching people and ships come and go at the Presidium Docks. Once I hit 18, my favourite spot was probably Chora’s Den. At least, that’s where I spent the majority of my downtime before I left for the Alliance.”

“Shit,” he says. “I never went there but I heard that place was _dank_.”

“Oh it was. The dankest. But my parents hadn’t let me go outside the Presidium and Upper Wards up until then, so that disgusting, wonderful club represented something pretty important to me…”

“Freedom?”

“Nah. Getting super drunk and hooking up.” He’s taking a sip of his drink as she says that and he almost spits it out as he laughs. “Smooth,” she adds as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Hey, you know me, I’m all about the smoothness.”

“Uh-huh,” she says. “Your favourite place on the Citadel?”

He answers without a moment’s hesitation. “The Consort Chambers.”

This time, she’s the one who nearly spits out her drink. “Shut up.”

“Okay, you’re right,” he says. “Not my favourite. Sha’ira wasn’t even _that_ good.”

She covers her face with her hand and laughs into it. “Oh, my god.”

“Alright, alright,” he says when she resurfaces. “For real, when I was a kid it was a park on the Presidium with a truly excellent playground. When I was older, it was the Silversun Strip.”

“Nice, I loved that place. You ever play Kepesh-Yakshi in the Castle Arcade?”

“Pssh!” he answers.

“I’m guessing that’s a yes, then,” she says. “Also guessing you were terrible at it.”

“You have no idea,” he says, then shudders. “Seriously, just _thinking_ about it is giving me an electric shock.”

She smiles. “Alright, moving on then… Favourite spot on Earth?”

“London.” Again, without hesitation.

“Well, _that’s_ a surprise,” she says. “What part of London?”

He stares at her as though she’s stupid which, well … yeah. “The London part of London.”

She huffs out a laugh and rolls her eyes. “You are impossible.”

“What?” he asks defensively. “You can’t just pick a part of London. It needs to be appreciated as a whole.” He pouts and shit does her drunk mind find that petulance adorable. “Man. You’d understand if you’d been there.”

She smiles at him. “Hey, London’s actually one of the few places on Earth I have been to. My mother was from there so we all went a few times to visit the extended family.”

And the excited look that puts on his face is twice as adorable. “Then you know how awesome it is.” He takes a sip of his drink. “So London has to be your favourite place on Earth too?”

She nods. “I didn’t see much of it, to be honest. But London was where I experienced rain for the first time. Can you imagine that? Five years old and never had the chance to run around in the rain. Scott and I spent so much time stomping in puddles and catching raindrops on our tongues that we were almost hypothermic by the time our parents managed to drag us inside.” And for some reason that she cannot dream up, that gets Liam laughing. “Okay, why is this funny?”

He pats the air with his hand. “Sorry. Sorry. Touching story but … that is _so_ London.”

She gives him a wry look. “What? Small children nearly getting critically ill from playing?”

“Exactly,” he says, nodding. “See? You get it.” He takes a sip of his drink and sighs. “London … what a city.”

She winces her way through another swig of her drink then gives him a long, considering look. “You’re not getting too homesick, are you?”

He shrugs. “Nah. No more than usual. Just a little nostalgic. Home is… it doesn’t need to be a place. It can be a feeling. And I think I might be starting to get that feeling here.”

“I think I might be, too.” She wants to lean over and take his hand but doesn’t think she’d be capable of that kind of coordination in her current state, so she just smiles instead. “And that leads perfectly onto the next question: favourite place in Heleus?”

“So far?” He finishes off his drink and waits for it to be refilled before he answers. “The storeroom on the Tempest.”

“You’re kidding me?”

He gives her a look of mock offence. “I would never. The storeroom’s special. It’s where I had my Andromeda sexual debut.”

“And quite the debut it was, might I add.” She holds her hand up for a high five and somehow he has enough coordination to make the connection without missing and hitting her in the face. And is it weird that they just high-fived that? Yeah, probably. But she’s comfortable enough with him to not give a single fuck about it.

“Kids, keep it to yourselves,” Drack calls out.

“Aw, come on, old man,” says Avery. “We’re not even being loud. It’s not our fault you’ve got super hearing.”

Drack grumbles something that sounds distinctively like, “Kids these days…”

Liam rolls his eyes. “So _old_.”

She sniggers as she finishes off her drink. It’s still terrible. But she thinks she’s getting used to it. Or, more likely, she’s drunk enough now that her taste and pain receptors are dulled. “You’re getting the biggest tip of your life once I’m done here, dude,” she says after the barman has refilled her drink. And there’s just the tiniest hint of a smile on the angaran’s face when he leaves them to serve Drack.

“The Kosta charm’s rubbing off on you, Ryder,” says Liam.

“In more ways than one.” She waggles her eyebrows at him in a way that she’s sure is thoroughly unattractive but his reaction is well worth it.

He drops his head to his arm on the bar and chuckles helplessly into it. “I’d say that drunk Ryder is great, but I don’t think she’s all that different from regular Ryder.”

She shrugs. “Just a little more uninhibited.” She lifts her glass to her mouth but stops before she takes a drink. “Wait. Is it _less_ uninhibited?”

“How am I supposed to know? I’m just as pissed as you.”

She knocks back her entire drink in one fiery swallow. “To be fair,” she wheezes. “I think I’m definitely more pissed.”

“Probably. So, think it’d be a good idea to slow down?” he asks as she holds up her glass to be refilled.

“Not particularly. It feels like I left the Pathfinder behind in the Resistance Headquarters. I’m liking letting loose.”

“I’ll drink to that,” he says, taking a sip. “Glad you chose me to do it with.”

And of course that gets her giggling because why wouldn’t it? “Heh. Do it.”

“Shit, Ryder,” he laughs. “You’re worse than me when I was a teenager. Actually … scratch that. No one’s that bad.” He drums his fingers on the bar. “Where were we up to with the favourites?”

She rubs at her forehead. “I dunno. I can barely remember my own name at this point.”

He cringes. “Definitely going to get in trouble for this.” He shrugs. “Future Liam can worry about it. That guy’s a jerk anyways.” He takes a slow sip of his drink. “Ah. I remember now. Favourite part of Heleus. Go.”

“Hmm.” She gulps down a mouthful of her drink. “I don’t think I’ve found one yet. Kind of hard to with all the bullshit. But … there’re people who make it better.” She smiles at him. “One in particular.”

Without warning, he throws an arm around her shoulders and gives her a squeeze. “Back at you,” he says as he presses a swift kiss to her temple and then withdraws.

Shit. She’s flushed and flustered now. More than she already was at least. Hugs and kisses are more warming than angaran liquor. Interesting. Definitely worth noting. She should get SAM to… _Huh? There’s a thought…_

“Do you think I’m getting SAM drunk right now?” she asks.

Liam’s laugh comes out in a startled burst of air. “Bloody hell. Where’d that come from?”

She shrugs. “I dunno? Just thinking out loud.”

“To answer your question, Pathfinder,” says SAM, so that they can both hear, “I am experiencing your drunkenness but it is not affecting my core processing. You cannot get me drunk. Although I admit that this new experience is illuminating.”

“So, you’re learning from my mistakes? Good to know.”

“Well now I know that I’m not going to be getting in trouble with SAM at least,” says Liam. “That’s something.” He takes a sip of his drink and surveys her over the rim of his glass. “So, no favourite place in Heleus yet but it’s growing on you.”

She nods. “Though my quarters on the Tempest are pretty excellent so I guess you could say that’s my favourite place at the moment.”

“You know, I’ve been wondering how good your room is. I’ve never been in there.”

“That can be rectified tonight, if you want.” It’s as she takes a huge gulp of her drink and notices Liam’s huge grin that she realises exactly how that sounds. “Uh. I mean. Ugh. Shit.” She pinches the bridge of her nose between her forefinger and thumb. “Look, I don’t do drunk sex anymore. Not since I threw up once during and, oh my _god_ , I am making this so much worse why can’t I stop talking?”

He laughs and pats her on the shoulder. “No need to explain. It wasn’t exactly on the table anyway. Though, I do like that sometimes you can be as idiotic with your words as me.”

She sighs. “Okay. I can turn this around. Just let me think.” She takes a swig of her drink to fill the silence as she thinks (and, yeah, still stupid). “Ah. Got it. You will see my room tonight because the decent thing to do after a date is to escort a lady back to her home.”

“See? You got there. Never doubted you would.”

She rolls her eyes. “I truly appreciate your undying faith in my ability to unfuck my fucked up words.”

“Hey, I appreciate all of your abilities. And I’m not even being dirty. Seriously, you’re a champ.”

“‘You’re a champ’? Really? You say that to all your dates?”

He finishes off his drink and waits for it to be refilled before answering. “Just the Pathfinder ones.”

“Please tell me that doesn’t include my father.”

He laughs. “Of course no– wait…” His laughter dies and he gets a far-off look as he remembers. “Actually, I think I _might’ve_ called him a champ once.”

“What’d he have to say to that?”

He shrugs. “I dunno. Customary papa Ryder response?” He clears his throat. “I think it went something like this… Hrmf.”

She groans. “Shit. I know that sound.”

“So you can tell me what it means.”

“Many and varied things,” she says. “Depended on the circumstances. In your case it probably meant ‘acknowledged but leave me alone’.”

“Sounds about right.”

Drack approaches them from across the bar. “Well kids, I’m off.” He slaps a meaty hand down on Liam’s shoulder. “Stay out of trouble.”

“Yeah, yeah,” says Avery. “Lay off grandpa, we’ll be good.” She blows him a kiss as he leaves.

Liam turns a bleary look to the sky. “It _is_ getting dark. Think we should head back to the Tempest as well?”

She shakes her head. “One more drink.”

But ‘one more’ turns to three more for her and one more for him and a sachet of nutrient paste for each of them (because for some reason that seems like a good idea in their current state) and a small expedition to find a restroom because holy hell does downing all those drinks fill a bladder almost to bursting. It’s full dark when they finally decide to make their way back to the ship and by that time Avery’s so drunk she can barely walk, even with her arm around Liam’s shoulders and his arm around her waist.

“Shit,” he says as they head towards the marketplace. “I feel like I’m seventeen again and trying not to seem drunk coming back home after a sneaky night out.”

“But you’re not doing a very good job of not acting drunk now so it’s probably not that similar.”

“No, it’s the same. I was shit at it then too.”

“Well, you’re doing better than me,” she says as she stumbles a little on the stairs. “At least you’re capable of walking without being supported.”

“Oh, is that what’s going on, is it? I thought you were carrying me.”

She swats at him with her free hand. “Pfft. Shut up. Now you’re trying to act drunker than you actually are.”

“Yeah. I just had a brilliant idea: if it looks like I came out of this whole thing worse than you then I might not get in trouble.”

“Such a sneaky bastard.”

They make their way into the marketplace where a small group of angara openly stare at them as they pass, and, well, it’s their planet so fair enough, they’ve got a right to stare at the weird aliens.

“Shit,” she says, when a particularly pretty angaran hides her smile behind her hand. “We’re probably not making a good impression right now. Especially me: the Pathfinder who needs help staying on the path.”

“Pretty sure it’s good. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from Jaal, it’s that the angara value being open with your emotions.”

“So getting drunk and zigzagging our way home counts as being emotionally open?”

“Hell yeah it counts,” he says, then shrugs. “I think. I’ll ask Jaal.”

“I thought he was done with being your cultural testbed?”

“Nah. He just likes pretending he’s grumpy. Plus, he’s always asking me questions, so it evens out.”

Her feet are starting to drag as they pass through the memorial gardens and out to the docks, and she’s got that sloshy feeling in her head that she well remembers from her late-teens. Ugh, the world is foggy and spinny and she feels like she’s going to hurl, probably _will_ hurl if history’s anything to go by, but she knew that was going to be a distinct possibility when she started so she can’t exactly complain. Plus, fuck it, being this reckless has been fun and also the feel of Liam’s hand against her waist is nice. And also also Liam is nice.

“Hey, you alright?” he asks. “You got quiet all of a sudden.”

“Yeah, I’m just _really_ drunk,” she says, “and walking has made me drunker. How are you not this drunk too?”

“You drank way more than me, Ryder. Shit, how was I the slightly more responsible one tonight?”

“That’s what happens when the boss is off the clock,” she says as they ascend the ramp to the Tempest’s airlock (and, hey, _fuck_ inclines at the moment).

“Were you really off the clock, though?”

They step into the airlock chamber and she finally feels safe enough to undrape her arm from across his shoulders and stand on her own two feet without his support. And it’s hard to do that without swaying on the spot, but she manages it with only the slightest stumble and that makes her super talented. “I tell the clock what’s what, not the other way around.”

He turns to face her, a bemused expression on his face. “That … makes no sense.”

“ _You_ make no sense,” she counters, as the door to the airlock closes and the decontamination protocols begin.

“Oh, we’ve got ourselves a combative drunk Ryder now,” he laughs. “Interesting.”

“Shut up,” she says and wraps her arms around his waist for a hug because, sure she’s talented, but she also likes having her arms around him and feeling his arms around her.

He pulls her tight against him, drops his face to the crook of her neck and chuckles into her skin (and shit does that feel incredible). “I had fun today.”

“Hmm, same,” she says. And she could kiss him if she wanted – just turn her face a fraction to the side and catch his lips with hers – and she wants to, of course she does, she _always_ wants to, and she’s pretty certain he wouldn’t object to it but she’s been drunk enough times to know that drunk kissing is rarely a good idea, even her inebriated self knows that to be true.

So she just holds onto him until the door to the armour locker opens and they can leave the airlock. She keeps an arm around his waist as they enter the ship because she enjoys the closeness but also because she needs the physical support now that they’re moving again and her world is reeling on its axis. It’s only once they reach the glass catwalk that she realises that she has an even bigger problem than walking.

“Ugh,” she says, “fucking ladder.”

“Want to take the long way around?”

“And have all the crew see me like this? Nah, I think I’ll tackle the ladder.”

“Fair enough,” he says. “But let me get down there first so that I can catch you if you fall.” And a little part of her wants exactly that to happen because it would actually be kind of beautiful. “Alright,” he calls out once he’s reached the lower floor, “come on down. But don’t try to show off with your fire-fighter slide thing.”

She slowly lowers herself down onto the first rung. “Hey! I do _not_ do that to show off. It’s efficient.”

“Then why do you wait for someone to be watching to do it then, huh?”

“I– _what_? I do it every time so of course if you happen to be watching, I’m gonna do it.”

“Heh, Avery…”

She slowly steps down the rungs. “What?”

“Heh. Do it.”

She bursts into uncontrollable laughter that shakes her whole body and she has to hug the rails so that she doesn’t fall (even though it _would_ be beautiful). “Shit, Liam! Don’t make me laugh while I’m climbing down. It’s hard enough as it is.”

She knows what she’d say to that last part (“That’s what _she_ said.”) but he has the grace – or smarts or kindness, whatever – to leave it be. She only stumbles a little when she reaches the bottom and she’s so glad that’s basically it for the walking and the climbing and the moving in general because fuck all of that she just wants her damn bed.

Liam lets out a low whistle as they enter her room. “ _Nice_.”

“Perks of the job,” she says as she heads straight for her bed and falls onto it, coming to rest sprawled out on her belly. “Ohh, I love this fucking bed,” she groans, closing her eyes and revelling in just how magnificent it truly is.

She feels the mattress dip beside her and hears Liam give a groan to echo her own. “Shit, this is fucking incredible. Who do I have to kill to get me this bed?”

“Uhh, that would be me. Then Cora.”

“Oh,” he says and she feels him shift slightly. Then his hand is at her shoulder, gently patting. “Not worth it.”

“Thanks for the reassurance,” she mumbles.

“You falling asleep?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Fully dressed?

“Meh. It’s fine. Don’t you think that’s fine? Yeah … it’s _fiiine_.”

He huffs out a laugh and shifts down to the end of the bed. “I’m gonna get rid of your shoes, okay?”

“Okay,” she says and she’s too drunk to even feel a little embarrassed about how inept she is at the moment.

Once her shoes are gone, he gets off the bed and comes to stand by her side. His hand gently ruffles her hair. “Do you usually wrap?”

She groans. “Ugh. Yeah. Usually. Couldn’t be bothered right now.”

“Hey, don’t worry, I’ll do it. What’ve you got?”

“A scarf. Somewhere.” She waves her hand in what she hopes is the general direction of her bedside table; she can’t know for sure though, since she hasn’t opened her eyes since she hit the mattress.

She hears him rifle through her drawers. “Ah, got it,” he says after a moment. “Shit, this feels nice. Is it silk?”

“Uh-huh. Couldn’t leave the Milky Way without it. Plus it only weighs like fifty grams, so it barely ate into my weight restrictions for personal items.”

He sits next to her and pokes her. “You’re gonna have to lift your head up if you want me to do this.”

She groans and somehow manages the get her arms underneath her so that she can prop herself up on her elbows. She opens her eyes then, just so that she can watch him as he wraps the scarf around her head, careful to gather up all the little tendrils of her hair so that they get covered, and that little crease of concentration between his eyebrows is so adorable she thinks she might be a little bit in love with his face. But, _seriously_ , how could she not be? He’s beautiful.

“There,” he says, as he ties the scarf off, “all done.”

She sighs and falls back down to her pillow. “Thank you.”

“Any time,” he says. “You’ve got pretty hair. But did you know your roots are starting to show?”

She glares at him. “Roots? How dare you? I’ll have you know I’m a natural blond thank you very much.”

He laughs. “Alright, alright. No roots showing then. But say if you were after some dye for a touch up, I’m sure there’s a certain turian who could find you some.”

“Just asked her about it this morning.” Plus some good quality men’s boxer briefs for him, but that’s a surprise she’s not about to spoil.

“Anything else I can do for you?”

“Can you do your thing?”

“My thing?”

“Yeah.” She holds up her hand, brings her middle finger and thumb together in a quick flicking motion and then points to her back.

“Ah. Right.” And even while drunk, he still manages to undo her bra though her shirt with an ease she wishes she were capable of. “See? Told you I could do it.”

“Never doubted it,” she says as she wriggles and twists until she can get rid of her bra without taking off her shirt. “Oh, it feels so good to be free.” She yawns and lets her eyes fall closed again.

“You all good now?”

“Hmm,” she hums. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem,” he says and the last thing she feels before she drifts off is the gentle press of his lips to her cheek as he whispers, “Goodnight.”


	4. Eos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another drabble *pew*

“ _That_ … was… awesome,” Avery pants out between laboured breaths.

Liam sits up and looks down at her, a wide grin plastered on his face. “That _was_ awesome.”

On Avery’s other side, Peebee shrieks out a giggle, gets to her feet and jumps up and down on the spot. “That was _awesome_.”

Avery finds the strength to sit up, shading her eyes with her hand as she searches the sky for the diminishing silhouette of the architect. “SAM, you sure it’s pacified?”

“Yes, Pathfinder.”

She lets out an unsteady little laugh.

“ _That was awesome_!” the three of them shout out together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for updating with such a short chapter but this is probably among my favourite things that I have ever written.


	5. Repose

Avery should be working. There’s so fucking much to do – reports to read, reports to write without swearing in them, official emails to read, official emails to respond to without swearing in them, and more – but she just couldn’t be bothered. She’s been working non-stop for over a week on Kadara, her first break only just this evening, and she’s worn out and also still a little tipsy on 645-year-old whiskey. She’s accepted that work is just not going to happen. So she’s up in the meeting room, sprawled out upside down on one of the couches there – her legs up over the headrest, feet waving out into the empty space above the research centre, back pressed to the seat and head hanging over the edge, her hair standing on end ( _boost those roots, girl, boost those roots_ ).

She tries not to laugh as she flicks through the snapshots she’s recently taken on her omni-tool but she can’t stop the occasional chortle from escaping and she hopes that the crew on the level just below hers can’t hear how embarrassingly goofy her laugh is when she’s tired and tipsy and topsy-turvy. Meh. Fuck it. They’ve probably heard it all before by now anyway. She’s got that ‘unique take on survival and success’ and everybody knows it.

Percy appears out of nowhere, padding along the headrest of her couch before he gives a little chirp and hops down onto her belly.

“Hey, baby. What’re you up to? Staying out of trouble, I hope.” She scratches behind his ears. “You’re so cute. You are _so_ cute. Yes you are,” she coos. “Hold still for a sec, let me get a photo.” But before she can line up her omni-tool, he flicks his tail and bounds away. “Little bastard.”

“That’s some fancy sitting.”

She tilts her head towards the ramp closest to her chair and sees Liam standing there, a bemused smile on his face. Of course. He always finds her and – who is she kidding? – she always wants him to. “I think we’ve already established that I’m fancy as fuck.”

“Totally have,” he agrees. “But were you just taking photos of the _pyjak_?”

She gives him a furious look of mock affront. “He has a name and it’s Percy. And, hell yeah, I’m trying to get photos of him. He’s part of the family and he deserves to be added to my collection just like the rest of you.”

Liam comes closer. “You mean you’ve got photos of all of us?” She nods. “Can I see?”

“Sure,” she says. “Let me just…” She twists and wriggles and flips herself until she’s sitting properly and pats the empty space on the couch to the right of her. She shifts closer to him as he sits and throws his arm around her shoulders and that simple example of the easy intimacy that they’ve fallen into makes her feel tipsier than she already did before he touched her. And that intimacy has been there basically the entire time she’s known him. The first time he hugged her had been in SAM Node after Habitat 7, way before she’d even thought to kiss him (That’s a lie. She’d thought of kissing him the moment he introduced himself to her. But she hadn’t thought that she’d be brave enough to follow through with that thought until they were actually kissing.) and it’s grown from there.

She sighs as she rests against him and he leans in close so that he can see the photos on her omni-tool as she flicks through them.

“These are great,” he says, and laughs at a photo of Peebee in the Nomad lewdly posing next to a sleeping Jaal, and the feel of his warm breath against her neck is ridiculously comforting. “I’ve seen you taking photos out in the field but I thought it was some Nexus shit. How long have you been up to this?”

“Ever since we first got onto the Tempest.”

He halts her from swiping when she reaches a photo of Drack next to a steaming pond of toxic water, his foot planted firmly onto the back of a raider. “That’s a cool one.”

“Yeah. He tried to pretend he didn’t notice me but I totally saw him set up that pose.”

“Proper supermodel, that one,” he says, then motions for her to continue. “So … why all the photos?”

She shrugs. “This crew… I know we’re all co-workers but it feels like a family to me. And my actual family? We weren’t all together as much as we would have liked and, when we were, we didn’t take a lot of family photos. I’ve got every single Ryder family photo on my omni-tool and, all together, they take up less than four gigs. Pathetic. So… I’m not about to make that same mistake again.”

“Fair enough.” He taps the fingers of his free hand on her thigh. “How are you doing about all that, by the way? Your dad, I mean. And Scott. It’s been a while since I’ve asked.”

And he’s still one of a very small few who actually has asked. She’d spoken to Cora about it once but she left that awkward conversation feeling that the Lieutenant knew her father better than she did so she hadn’t wanted to do that again. Drack was unexpectedly the sweetest in his own strange, brusque way. She spent close to half an hour looking over those low-quality pictures, laughing so hard she’d had tears in her eyes and been left with an aching stomach for hours afterwards. But Liam’s been the only one to ask her for her sake, and who actually listens.

“Scott… he’ll wake up. I know it. And, yeah, he’ll probably be pissed with me for lying about finding home but I couldn’t tell him the truth after I’d just broken the news to him about dad. Didn’t want to give him nightmares.”

Liam shakes his head. “You know, I still don’t understand _how_ you spoke with your brother while he was in a coma. Seems like some weird, twentieth-century sci-fi vid.”

“SAM, man,” she says, shrugging. “You’ve got the implant. So if you’re ever in a coma I could probably speak to you too. But don’t, though.”

“I don’t plan on it. But, y’know, it’s me, so…”

She turns her face toward him so that she can glare at him. “Don’t. Seriously. I don’t think I could handle that.”

He salutes her with the hand that isn’t resting on her shoulder (and, yeah, _that’s_ still a thing). “Aye aye ma’am.” She flicks through a few more photos before he speaks again. “And your dad?”

She sighs. “I dunno. It still feels weird, almost surreal. He was never around much, always working, always adventuring. So now that he’s _gone_ gone, it’s not all that different actually. But the fact that this time he’s never coming back… _that_ is hard to wrap my head around. I keep thinking he’s going to march on into my cabin – _his_ cabin – and tell me off for the all shit I’ve gotten up to.”

“What shit?”

“The way I speak to the higher-ups on the Nexus, getting drunk on Aya.” She pauses, and smiles at him. “Having sex in the storeroom.”

“Shit,” he says. “Your dad would want to kill me, wouldn’t he?”

“I dunno,” she says, and she fucking hates that she really doesn’t know the answer to that. “He was never around for my, uh… exploits in my late teens, so I honestly have no idea whether he was one of those over-protective, ‘keep your hands off my daughter’ fathers.”

“Shit,” he says again, squeezing her shoulder gently. “I’m so sorry, Avery.”

“Hey,” she says, shaking her head. “No pity party, okay?”

“Okay,” he says. “But, I get the bit about not being able to come to terms with him being gone. I keep thinking of my folks in the present tense. Like, _they’re_ back in the Milky Way, _they’re_ probably missing me. It’s weird to think that actually they’re… y’know?

She smiles sadly and lifts her hand to her shoulder to give his hand a squeeze. “Oh, Liam.”

“What did you just say about a pity party?” he says, a grin flashing across his face. “Besides, I’m fine with it. Mostly. The crying at night is down to once, maybe twice a week.”

She snorts out a laugh, and drops her hand back down so that she can continue swiping through her photos. “How can you make me laugh about this?”

“It’s a talent.” He halts her hand as she quickly flicks past a photo. “Hey. What was that?”

_Shit._ Her face is on fire. “Uh. Nothing? Nothing. Definitely nothing.” But he’s quick and manages to flick it back. “Shit.”

And he’s laughing, so hard she’s jostled along with him. “Is that my _butt_?”

“Oh, I don’t know that you could say it’s yours,” she says. “It’s so close up, it could be anybody’s.”

“Those are clearly _my_ trousers.” He gives her a self-satisfied smile. “Ryder, you’ve taken a photo of my arse.”

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t sound so pleased.”

“How could I not be, though? You’re a fucking pervert. That’s _awesome_.”

“Oh, shut up,” she says, the giggle she’s managed to hold back till now breaking through despite her best efforts. “I do have eyes, Liam. How could I _not_ notice the smackable ass right in front of me? Leave me alone, okay?”

He holds up his free arm in submission, just like he did when she saw him without a shirt for the first time ( _Mmm. That was a good day._ ). “Alright. Alright. But, privately, I get to be smug about this. You can’t take that away from me.”

“Fair enough,” she says. “But no more teasing, yeah?”

“You won’t hear another peep.” Then he gently takes her chin and turns her face so that he can look her straight in the eye. “The teasing really bothers you?”

“No,” is all she can say because he’s close, so close she would barely have to move to close the distance between them. And he must be thinking the same thing, because he glances down to her lips and leans in and… _shit_. “I almost kissed Reyes.”

He halts and just stares at her for a second. “You _almost_ kissed Reyes?”

She nods. “Earlier this evening. At the party. We were somewhere we shouldn’t have been and we were about to be found so I had to think of a distraction quick and, yeah, I was a little tipsy, so that was my first thought.”

He cocks an eyebrow at her. “What was your second thought?”

“To punch him.”

“So you punched Reyes Vidal?”

“Yeah. Just… straight in the stomach.” She launches her right fist out and up into mid-air, in imitation of the oh so satisfying punch in question. “Like that. He threw up a little bit.”

Liam throws back his head and laughs. “Well there’s your story! Why’d you bother telling me about the almost kissing him bit?”

She shrugs. “I dunno. Seems like something I should be transparent about.”

“Nah. Not my business. It’s not like I have a claim on you. Plus you punched him. That’s awesome!”

She gives a small, weak laugh and starts flicking through the photos again.

_And why the fucking hell has that reaction disappointed you, Avery?_ Shit. She’s frustrated with herself. She loathes jealous guys, has never gotten off on someone being possessive of her. So why does finding out that Liam isn’t like that make her feel … inadequate? Like the uncertain, self-doubting teenager she wishes she had never been, wishes she had been able to leave behind in the Milky Way. Because, she realises, he’s wrong. He _does_ have a claim on her. A claim so fucking huge it’s kind of frightening. But if he doesn’t think that, doesn’t _want_ that…

“Okay,” he says, breaking through the cacophony of her spiralling mind, “you’ve gotten quiet. What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

“Cool.” He reaches for her arm and switches off her omni-tool. “Now, again, what’s up? No bullshit this time.”

“Do you … like me?” She winces, hating herself for asking the question, hating that for some stupid reason she finds it necessary.

“Hell yeah,” he answers, quickly, easily. “Did you really need to ask?”

No, she didn’t, she really, really didn’t. But, her brain… it can be an idiot sometimes. “I guess not.”

“Have I made you think something else?”

“No.” She lets out a frustrated groan. “Sorry. I’m just really insecure sometimes.”

He lets out a startled laugh. “What? Okay, I’m not being sarcastic at all here but I never would’ve picked that. You’re so capable and sure of yourself.”

“When I’m the Pathfinder, yeah. But it can be different when I’m just Avery Ryder.”

“Avery,” he sighs, “you’re the same person, whether you’re on the job or not.”

“Well, yeah. Okay, I’ll put it a different way. I’m sure of myself when it comes to my job. Not so much when it comes to personal relationships.”

“Okay. I get that.” He takes her hand, threading his fingers with hers. “Honestly I’m probably the other way around.”

She smiles, despite her lingering displeasure with herself. “So… together we’re a fully functioning, well-adjusted person?”

“Ha! Yeah.”

“Okay,” she says as he strokes the back of her hand with his thumb, “can we just forget about this whole thing? I’m an idiot. I over-think everything to the point where a little thing will just blow up way out of proportion in my mind, like it becomes this huge beast that I have to try to think away but thinking just feeds it, makes it bigger and stronger.”

“But… me reassuring you, that helps right?”

She sighs, closes her eyes and rests her head against his shoulder. “Hm-mm. It does.”

“Well, any doubts, you come to me. Okay?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t think that’s part of your job description, Liam.”

“‘Pathfinder Support Team Member’, Avery. _Literally_ my job description. But who’s talking about work? It’s not work to back up my best mate.”

She kind of wants to laugh at that. Because ‘mate’. Means different things depending on what English dialect you’re speaking but she’s fluent in them all (English mother plus American father plus Citadel upbringing equals proper citizen of the galaxy) so she gets his meaning. It’s a nice sentiment and she can’t find fault with it so she nods. “Okay.”

“And also, for your information,” he says, “just because we’re not… _y’know_ right now, doesn’t mean I don’t want to be in the future.”

“Oh,” she says. “Good.”

“Hey.” He gently nudges her head from his shoulder and then settles his mouth over hers and… _Oh_ , she thinks. _Good._

She lets out a long, deep sigh as he kisses her, slowly, carefully, and she wonders why they’ve waited this long to do this again. Of course there’s the whole slowing things down so they don’t crash and burn thing but gentle, lazy kissing like this doesn’t fuck with that. It fucks with _her_ , yeah, but in all the right ways. Because he’s still just a fantastic kisser. Even like this, when there’s just the barest bit of pressure.

“This okay?” he asks when she pulls back so that she can simply look at him just to prove to herself that he’s really real, that _this_ is really real.

She nods and turns her body toward him so that she can draw him back in properly. She lays one hand against the heat of his chest and rests the other at his nape to pull his mouth down to hers, nearly melting on the spot at the small moan that he lets out as their lips begin to move in a gliding caress. Then he brings his hand up to stroke her cheek…

And, fucking hell, she’s _falling_. Just dropping, hurtling through empty space and she doesn’t even care because the swoop in her stomach is thrilling and terrifying and tremendous all at once and she realises she’s been falling ever since Habitat 7, has never stopped careening through almost empty air and hopefully, _hopefully_ he’s been falling with her this whole time too.

It takes her mind a moment to interpret the dull, rhythmic thudding sounds she can hear somewhere off behind her and by the time she realises that it’s the footsteps of someone encroaching on them, it’s too late. She pulls back from him and covers her mouth with her hand, as though that will somehow hide the fact that she was just kissing him.

“Hey, Suvi,” he says, “what’s up?” And Avery kind of hates (lying; she loves it) how casual he can be about this, how unashamed he is to be caught kissing the Pathfinder in a communal area of the ship.

“Er, nothing,” says Suvi, and her awkwardness makes Avery feel even more awkward than she already did. “I think I left a datapad up here.” She searches around the vidcon terminal for a moment. “Ah! Got it.” She rocks back on her heels and glances over at the two of them entwined on the couch. “Er… I’ll go. Leave you two to… Yeah, I’ll just…”

She catches Avery’s eye as she heads down the ramp, half-smiling, half-cringing when she mouths, “Sorry.”

Avery drops her head to Liam’s shoulder and lets out a helpless giggle. “Fucking hell that was awkward.”

“What was?”

She lifts her head just so that he can see when she rolls her eyes at him. “Clueless.”

He grins. “You embarrassed to be seen with me?”

She presses a swift peck to his lips. “Absolutely.”

He draws her back in for a proper kiss. “You’re a terrible liar,” he mutters against her lips.

There’s nothing she can say to that because it’s true (she can’t count the amount of times Scott’s and her childhood hijinks were ruined when she couldn’t adequately lie to her parents about what they were up to) so she just kisses him again instead. Which is better, obviously.

“So, after we’re done on Kadara,” he says when they part, “I was thinking… we’re due for another date.”

“I’ve been thinking the same thing, actually. I’ve even got a semi-plan.”

“Next date is our third, though. Third date’s already planned.”

“Uh… what?” She frowns. Have they had a second date that she doesn’t even realise happened? Possible. But if she can remember every detail of their first date despite how drunk she was, then it’s not likely. “The next date isn’t our third.”

“Yeah it is,” he insists. “We’re up to number three.”

“Okay? How do you figure that?”

He releases her hand and holds up a finger. “First date: Habitat 7.” Then, another finger. “Second date: Aya.” He uses the two fingers to tap her on the forehead. “Not that hard, Avery.”

He drops his hand to her thigh and looks at her with a such self-assured smile on his face that she thinks her brain might be breaking. Habitat 7? _Habitat 7_? _Is he for fucking real?_ “Habitat 7 was not a date.”

“Sure it was. We hung out all day, had fun, flirted.” He shrugs. “Sounds like a date to me.”

“I do not recall having fun or flirting with you once on that fucking planet, Kosta.” Though, she’d wanted to. She’d wanted to flirt something fierce. “I was sorta busy trying not to die and then, y’know, _dying_.”

“Not how I remember it.”

_So fucking stubborn._ “Oh, my god, Liam. It was _not_ a date.”

“Alright. Alright. Not a date,” he says, then adds in a low voice, “Totally was, though.”

“You are…” She groans, takes his face between both of her hands and kisses him, hard. He pulls her in closer, hands moving to splay across her back, and turns the kiss into something gentler, more earnest. And he’s probably just trying to distract her but she’s not about to complain about tactics like that when she clearly benefits. “Okay,” she says, when she finds the willpower to pry her lips from his. She closes her eyes and rests her forehead against his. “Let’s just knock Sheen of the Dawn back to what is, in your ridiculous mind, the fourth date. That work?”

“I dunno, Ryder,” he says, and she can hear the suppressed laughter in his voice. “Sheen of the Dawn really is third date material.” She pulls back and glares at him in what she hopes is an accurate impression of the sort of look her father would give her if he could see them right now. And it works, because he says, “Alright. Compromise. Sheen of the Dawn: fourth date. Whatever you’ve got planned: next date. So what’s it gonna be?”

“See, I’ve been thinking about this for a while. But every time I come up with something, the places I want to take you are all back in the Milky Way. So, impossible, obviously.”

“Seems a bit drastic to go back just for one date.” He trails a hand upwards, fingers skimming against the nape of her neck and she tries to ignore the pleasurable shiver that sends down her spine, but it’s hard to when he’s so near, so solid, so real. “I’d do it, though. If that’s what you wanted, I’d fucking do it.”

_Shit. That’s… holy shit._

“Nah. I think I’ve got something a bit closer.”

“Oh, yeah? What?”

She smiles and shakes her head. “It’s a surprise. Only thing is, it’s on Voeld. I know you hate how cold it is…”

“Hey, it’ll be worth it,” he says, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “Totally worth it.”

“Problem is we’ll need to go through hostile territory to get to where we need to go, so we’ll have to take someone else with us.”

“Jaal,” he says immediately.

She rolls her eyes. _Typical._ “Right. Because having him there will be super convenient for you, won’t it? That way you won’t have to bother telling him all about it afterwards.”

He smiles sheepishly. “Heh. Yeah.”

She taps her fingers against his chest. “Look, he’ll be there for the drive over. But after that? He can wait on the sidelines, in Techiix if he’d prefer.”

He shrugs. “Telling the story is probably better anyway.”

“Of course it is,” she says, pressing a swift kiss to his lips. “That way you get to embellish to your heart’s content.”

“You know me so well,” he says, with something close to wonder in his voice.

“You make it easy. Open book and all.” She pulls away from him and stretches, hands reaching for the ceiling. “I should get to bed. I’ve got another long, bullshit day again tomorrow.”

“Don’t want to make out a bit first?”

She lets out a startled laugh and looks at him, arching her brow when he just stares back, face carefully impassive. “Are you kidding?”

“Depends on your answer.”

She shakes her head and laughs. “Fucking smartass.” But… _You know what? Fuck it._ She leans back in and kisses him. One make out session isn’t going to fuck with ‘let’s see where this goes’. And, hey, making out is where it’s going, so they’ll fucking _see_ it. She pulls back just long enough to say, “Five minutes, okay? I really do have to sleep,” before she dives straight back into it.

But five minutes turns to fifteen (probably? She’s lost track of time) and they wind up with him on his back and her lying atop him straddling his hips, legs curled beneath her, one of her hands under his shirt, both of his on her ass, and they’re both gasping for breath between kisses and she doesn’t even care that they’re still in a completely open part of the ship where anyone could intrude on them because she just wants to feel like a normal fucking twenty-two-year-old for once and, seriously fuck it, normal twenty-two-year-olds make out with their… _whatevers_ in stupid fucking places.

Still, though, she can’t look Lexi, Cora or Vetra in the eyes when Liam and her come down from the meeting room – because they know, they fucking _know_ – but he’s all smiles and “Hey, how’s that thing going, Cora?” and “Vetra, I checked over that thing for you” and she truly hates (still lying; still loves it) how casual he can be about this when, even with her ‘unique take on survival and success’, she can practically see her father glowering at her from the grave.

_He wouldn’t be proud of me right now_ , she thinks, then realises, with the kind of clarity she wishes would hit her more often, _but mum would._

And that makes all the difference.

She lifts her head high, meets Lexi’s eyes, winking when the doctor gives her a knowing smile, and heads off to her cabin to have the soundest sleep she’s had in a long fucking time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw, I totally headcanon my Ryder having a mixed American-British accent. Hence why she uses ‘mum’ instead of ‘mom’.


	6. Interlude: Suvi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double drabble *pew pew*

“Avery,” says Suvi, finishing off her coffee and setting the empty mug on the table, “can I _ask_?”

“Of course.” Avery’s not sure she’s okay with just anyone asking (not that anyone really has) but she definitely doesn’t mind Suvi asking. Because, well, it’s _Suvi_ for fuck’s sake.

Suvi leans forward in her chair and gives Avery a soft, quizzical smile. “So… how’s everything with Liam?”

“Good,” she answers, then finds herself laughing. “Really, _really_ good, actually.”

Suvi lets out a happy little sigh. “I’m so glad to hear that. You two make such a cute couple.”

“Oh. Uh… We’re not. I mean… not really.”

Suvi’s eyes widen. “You’re not? _Why_?” Then she cringes. “Oops. That’s prying too much isn’t it? Sorry.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I’m not sure I have an answer, though.” She shrugs. “We’re just seeing where it goes. Without any pressure.”

Suvi nods. “Well, I never thought I’d be saying this about anything involving Liam, but that’s very considered.”

“Ha! Yeah…” She takes a sip of her coffee and sighs. “You know, it is good to know we’re already cute, though.”

“Seriously, Ryder,” says Suvi, reaching across the table to give her hand a pat. “ _So_ cute.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for another short chapter. My writing has slowed down since Real Life has decided I need to focus on work. I'm hoping that I'll be able to get another, longer chapter up over the next couple of weeks. I know exactly where this collection of moments is going and have about 10 more chapters planned but it's just finding the time for it, you know? Anyways, I have a completed smut piece that I've been sitting on for over a month that I'll probably post soonish to fill the silence.


	7. Voeld

There’s no two ways about it: Voeld is a miserable planet.

Wait. Actually, no. There _are_ two ways about it: Voeld is a miserable planet _plus_ a beautiful one. But that doesn’t exactly count for much when they have to stop the Nomad three times to deal with kett dropships on their way from Taerve Uni to Techiix. Which is obviously not the most ideal start to a date but neither was getting cased on Aya so… y’know…

Not much about this date is ideal, Avery realises as she drives down an icy slope towards the daar. It’s fucking cold, they’re in full armour, she’s not sure what Gil’s made for them will work, she’s not even sure that Liam will enjoy what she’s got planned and … Jaal’s here. That’s another fucking thing.

“Blue on blue…” he’s saying, wonder in his voice. “How do you know where one ends and the other begins?”

She doesn’t need to be watching Liam to know that he shrugs, she can hear it when he says, “You get wet.”

“Ah. We have people who aren’t funny too.”

“Shit, Jaal,” she laughs. “Keep it up with those sick burns and we won’t have to worry about being cold ever again.”

“Sick? Burns?” he asks. “Did my translator malfunction?”

“Nah, just another human idiom,” says Liam. “She was complimenting you on how well you insulted me.”

“Oh. Then thank you, Ryder.”

“Not a problem.” She hits the brakes and parks the Nomad next to the forward station right by the entrance to Techiix. “Alright, we’re here.” She undoes her seatbelt and turns to look at Jaal in the back of the vehicle. “You going to be alright waiting?”

“Yes. I will find a solar heater to wait nearby. And I would like to see this… what did you call it again?”

She holds a finger to her lips. “Sh! Surprise for Liam, remember?”

“Wait,” says Liam, frowning. “He already knows and I don’t? Not fair.”

“Don’t pout. I had to ask him about it. Needed to make sure we weren’t going to break some angaran taboo. Turns out we’re good, right Jaal?”

Jaal shrugs. “That depends on your definition of ‘good’. You will not offend anyone. But your sense of judgement will be questioned, _is_ questionable.”

“When is it ever not?” she says, picking up her helmet from the front passenger seat which no one ever sits in for some reason. (It’s probably an indictment on her driving but, honestly, she gets them from Point A to Point B with only a couple of bruises so everybody can quit with the silent reprimands because it’s not fair that she has to feel lonely in her own damn vehicle.)

Jaal laughs, that loud, rolling chuckle she’s become quite fond of.

“Seriously,” says Liam, “it’d be weird if Ryder did something and no one doubted her good sense.”

“Keep that in mind, okay?” She points to him and winks. “It’s warmer than usual out there today. But still minus thirty-five. So, helmets on and let’s go.”

She lets out a shaky sigh as she steps out into the frigid cold and looks up at the aurora. Yep. Voeld is a miserable fucking planet. But so devastatingly beautiful.

“Ready?” she asks Liam after she’s gotten the small crate from the front passenger side floor and tucked it under her arm.

“As ready as I can be when I still have no clue what we’re doing.”

He takes a hold of her free hand as they set out towards the platforms that the angara have built at the edge of the frozen lake and – _yep, okay, shit_ – she probably won’t have to worry about being cold with how fast that’s gotten her heart beating. Hand-holding is nice, even with gloves. Have they ever held hands like this before? She doesn’t think so. Yeah, they’ve stumbled through Aya with their arms around each other but… holding hands is different, somehow more intimate, almost a declaration.

She barely notices Jaal following several metres behind – what with that cat-like, stalking walk of his – and she appreciates that he’s giving them space. He’s thoughtful like that. Even if he doesn’t really get the human need for privacy when it comes to relationships and emotions. But neither does Liam, actually, which is probably why they get along so well. Jaal splinters off from them once they reach the platforms, heading for one of the solar heaters surrounded by other angara, while they walk straight to the edge of the ice where she sits on an icy rock and sets the crate in her lap.

“Sitting in the snow, Avery? Really?”

She rolls her eyes as she opens the crate. “Look in the box, Kosta.”

He sits down beside her and she watches carefully as he peers into the box, frowning a little before his eyes widen. “Are those skates?”

“Hm-mm. Is that okay?”

“We’re probably going to be the first people to ever ice-skate on Voeld. That’s fucking awesome, Avery! Best date idea ever.” He throws an arm around her shoulders and bumps his helmet to hers in what she guesses is an approximation of a kiss on the cheek. Again, not ideal… but she’ll take it because it’s actually pretty fucking sweet when she thinks about it.

She pulls out her skates and hands Liam his. “I helped Gil make these for us. The metal framework fits over your shoe like this and then you just need to tighten them.” She grunts as she tightens the clamps as much as she can. “They should be stable.”

“Should be?” he asks as he gets to work fastening his own skates to his shoes.

“Gil’s good at what he does. But he’s never done anything quite like this.” She shrugs. “He said he’d buy us a drink if they break.”

“Sounds like a wager. Gil never loses those. We should be alright then.”

She finishes securing her second skate. “That was my hope, too.” She carefully stands. “Okay… So far so good. How long before our life support systems fail in this cold, SAM?”

“Approximately ten minutes,” SAM answers.

“Better than the usual four.” She gives Liam a hand up. “Sorry, though. It isn’t exactly going to be a long date.”

“Don’t apologise, Avery. You can’t change the weather.” Then he laughs. “I mean, obviously you can. But, y’know… no pressure or anything.”

“Thanks for your understanding,” she says, sarcastic as ever because she just can’t help herself. “Anyway, you any good?”

She can’t see his mouth with his helmet on but she’s sure he’s smiling when he says, “I probably won’t fall. You?”

She shrugs, spins on the spot and sprints away.

And almost immediately her mind empties, clears, evens out. Just like it used to when she was a child. Just like she’s needed it to for so damn long. She hasn’t done this in years, not since she joined the Alliance. She’d wanted to get in one last skate before she left the Milky Way, but there’d not been enough time, and not enough cause to make the time for it beyond ‘it makes me feel good.’ But she’d spent every spare day for close to nine years of her life skating and the motions still come so naturally to her, as though she’d never stopped.

It would be nice to feel the breeze in her hair as she speeds up. But then again it’s nicer not to burn her fucking lungs from breathing the freezing air. So… priorities. She’s got them right at the moment. She takes a deep, non-lung-burning breath, gives herself a little boost with her biotics and jumps and twirls in the air, a full circle and a half, landing on one skate, arms outstretched as she slides backwards. An almost perfect axel jump. She used to be able to do the triple axel but it’s been over four years and she’s wearing full armour so, fuck it, she’ll take what she can get.

Liam lets out a whoop as he chases after her and in the near distance she can hear Jaal laughing uproariously. She looks over towards him and notices a sizable group of angara gathering to stare at them out there on the ice. Shit. She’s attracted an audience. Not exactly what she’d wanted but she’d expected it when Jaal had told her that angara didn’t have any pastime of their own like ice-skating.

Liam skids to a halt in front of her. “That was fucking awesome!”

“Thanks.” She curtsies as daintily as she can manage despite the armour. “Now that I’ve gotten that out of my system…” She holds a hand out to him.

“I’d be cool with you showing off some more.”

“Nah. I’d rather not waste our ten minutes out here on that when I could be spending time with you.”

He takes her hand. “Shit. Keep saying things like that and I’ll start to think you like me or something.”

She laughs. “As if.”

“Hm. Should’ve realised that’d be too good to be true.”

She sighs as she gets them moving in a slow glide. She needed this. She really, _really_ needed this. The ice-skating, the break, Liam, all of it.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so serene,” he says after a moment of silence. (Not an uncomfortable silence. None of their shared moments are uncomfortable. And that’s … comforting to say the least.)

She glances at him and sees that he’s watching her carefully. “You can notice that even though I’m wearing a helmet?”

“Yeah, your eyes aren’t so intensely focussed as they usually are. But it’s your whole body too. You’re holding yourself different. Looser.”

_How can he know me so well after such a short time?_

She shrugs. “I was an anxious kid. And I couldn’t understand it, couldn’t rationalise it. I’d get this restless energy and just _go_ until I broke down. So mum figured out that I needed something to focus on apart from all my frustrating little science projects and tactical games.”

He laughs. “ _Nerrrd_.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up. I’m sure you were some popular jock at that age.”

“Nah, you know what I was like. Pissed off social justice smartarse. Sorry, you were saying before I interrupted?”

“My mum realised that I needed something else to focus on,” she says. “Something freeing, more organic.”

“Ice skating?”

“Ice skating,” she agrees. “We tried a few things. But skating is what worked. As soon as I’d get out onto the ice, my mind would just empty and there’d be nothing but me, my skates and the ice. It was so cathartic. Still is.” She lets go of his hand and speeds ahead to do a quick, simple spin.

“You’re pretty good,” he says as she takes his hand and rejoins him in their slow, easy glide. “Did you ever compete?”

“Nah. I wanted to. I was a competitive little shit back then. But mum wouldn’t let me. I’m glad she didn’t. It would’ve ruined everything.”

He shrugs. “Mum knows best.”

They follow the slow, sinuous movements of a yevara beneath the ice as it croons out its spine-tingling song. There’s so much enigmatic beauty in Heleus. To be fair, there was a lot of that back home too, but all of this is so new and strange. She doesn’t agree with Peebee’s assessment of the Milky Way as ‘been there, done that’ – she’d spent too much time around Prothean ruins to believe that anyone had come anywhere near close to unlocking the secrets of the galaxy – but she can’t deny that there’s something so exciting and alien about what they’ve come across here, nothing mundane, everything a puzzle to be solved. Which is… exactly what she shouldn’t be thinking about right now.

She takes a steadying breath and refocuses on her skates, on the sound of the yevara, the feel of Liam’s hand in hers.

“So…” he says, “you’ve been feeling stressed?”

“No,” she answers. And, honestly, she doesn’t know why she does that. Why she lies when she knows she’s just going to tell the truth straight after anyway. Especially with him. She doesn’t ever want to lie to him.

He sighs. “Avery…”

“Okay. Yeah. Obviously. How could I not be?”

“Fair enough. Stress is part of the job, I guess. You should take more breaks, though.” He swings their entwined hands back and forth between them. “Like this.”

“I wish I could.” Fucking hell, does she wish that she could. “Maybe when all this Archon shit is dealt with, I’ll have the time.”

“If you don’t go easier on yourself, you’ll crack before then.”

_Ouch. That hits too close to home._ “Wow,” she laughs. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

She can see him cringe despite the fact that half of his face is obscured by his helmet. “Shit. My mouth. Fucking idiot. Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” She squeezes his hand, hoping that he can feel it through the thick layers separating their skin. “You’re just looking out for me. I get that. I appreciate it.” She sighs. “I’ll see what I can do. Can’t promise anything.”

“Good enough. I’ll bug you if you don’t at least try.”

“Seems fair,” she says. “So… you okay that I basically chose something that would help relieve my stress levels for our second date?”

“Third date,” he corrects.

“Oh, my fucking god,” she groans. “This again…”

“Just go with it,” he says and she loves the sound of his voice when there’s laughter behind his words. “To answer your question: hell yeah. It’s a bloody compliment. The fact that you wanted me to be a part of this means that I help you relax, right?”

“Yeah,” she admits. Because it’s so fucking true. She never feels as comfortable as she does when she’s with him.

“See? _Awesome_.”

SAM’s voice cuts into their conversation. “Life support levels are almost critically low.”

“Shit,” says Liam. “Didn’t even realise.”

“Me neither,” she says. “Solar heater. Pronto.”

They race back towards the platforms. She’s giggling and he’s chuckling and she can barely believe they’re actually, _actually_ laughing despite their life support systems beeping alarmingly. They scramble up the rocks and stone walls, balancing precariously on the thin blades of their skates that hold firm even off the ice and she’ll definitely have to remember to praise Gil for that. They only stop once they’re close enough to a solar lamp (one that’s blessedly not already surrounded by people) that the shrill beeping stops and their life support starts to recover. They sit together and unclamp their skates from their shoes.

“That was fun,” he says. “Too bad we couldn’t stay out there longer.”

“The way the planet’s warming up, in a year or so we might be able to,” she says. “Shit, before that, the Nexus could be built enough that there might be stuff like movie theatres and ice rinks. Plenty of date opportunities then.”

“Yeah… But that won’t be as exciting as this.”

“Hmm. What’s the point of a date if you aren’t literally sprinting for your life?”

“Pretty much,” he laughs.

Turning to look at the group of angara on the other side of the platform, she sets up a comm link to Jaal. “Jaal?”

“Yes, Ryder.”

“We’re not about to be swarmed by people are we?”

“Maybe,” he answers. “They do have questions that I can’t answer.”

“I’ll be happy to speak to them. Just hold them off for a bit, please. Five minutes.”

“Very well.”

She sets her skates on the ground and stands. “Be back in a sec,” she says to Liam. “One last surprise.” She climbs back down the rocks to the edge of the ice where she left the crate. When she returns, Liam’s standing as close as he can to the solar lamp without risking burns. He’s taken off his helmet and honestly… _honestly_? She fucking loves his pretty fucking face.

She takes off her own helmet and there’s still a bite to the air despite how close she is to the heater, but not enough that it hurts. She pulls out a self-heating thermos from the crate, still working despite the conditions (Gil: fucking genius), and hands it over to him.

“What’s this?”

She smiles and shrugs.

He unscrews the lid and his eyes widen once the smell hits him. “Holy shit! Is this hot chocolate?”

“Yeah,” she says. “It’s probably not that good. The chocolate powder’s real enough but I had to use powdered milk that I don’t think came from anything remotely like a cow.”

He takes a slow sip and groans. “It’s fucking perfect.”

They spend the next few minutes passing the thermos back and forth between them. It’s so damn good she feels like she’s been transported back to her first snow fall in London when she was eight and she’d broken her arm in a sledding accident (which had been entirely Scott’s fault, she’ll never assert otherwise) and her father had let her drink as much hot chocolate as she’d wanted because he was honestly more of a softy than her mother when it came to his sick or injured kids. Which is probably why he gave her his helmet after she stupidly fucking smashed it on Habitat 7 and…

_Nope nope nope you do not think about that Avery not now not ever nope._

She takes a deep breath and centres herself, focussing on the cold wind ruffling her hair, on the feel of the heat emanating from the lamp, the warmth spreading out from her tummy to her limbs, the contented look on Liam’s face as he takes a final sip and passes her the thermos to finish off the rest.

“That was awesome,” he sighs. Then frowns and points to the corner of his mouth. “Avery, you’ve got a little something…”

“What?” She tries to wipe her mouth with her sleeve which is inaccessible beneath the unyielding material of her vambrace but before she can even think about removing the offending piece of armour, Liam’s right there, leaning forward and kissing her.

“Me,” he pulls back long enough to whisper before he presses his mouth back to hers and kisses her despite the huge grins on both of their faces.

“That was cheesy,” she sniggers when he pulls back.

“Shit,” he says. “ _Cheese_. Fucking hell, I miss cheese.”

“Right? Like, probably more than home itself. And oh my god, Liam, _pizza_.”

He closes his eyes and groans. “Aw, maaan. Pizza date. Pizza and vid date.”

“Fuck. Put me back in cryo until we get cows, okay?”

He opens his eyes and smiles at her, the sort of ridiculous, sunny smile that crinkles his nose in the most adorable way. “Pretty sure you’ll need to be awake for that to happen. Key to the remnant vaults and all that.”

“Oh yeah. That whole thing…” She sighs. “Alright. I’ll fix the fucking cluster. But only for the cheese.”

“And there it is, the quote that’ll go under your picture in the Andromeda Initiative Class of 2819 Yearbook.”

“Oh, my god, could you imagine?” she laughs. “What would yours be?”

He smirks. “‘Pathfinder Avery Ryder? Hell yeah, I got to tap dat.’”

“You forgot to clarify, ‘Just the once’,” she says, trying not to smile back at him but of course failing miserably.

He clutches at his chest, a pained expression on his face. “Damn. You just killed me, Ryder.”

She lets out a huffing laugh and pulls him down for a kiss. “Overdramatic much?”

“Hey,” he says, “if it gets me a kiss…”

She thumps her fist gently against his chest. “Manipulative.” But she can’t resist the urge to reel him into another kiss because she’d happily do nothing else for the rest of her life if she could get away with it, he’s just _that good_. “Anyway, as much as I’d love to continue to flirt with you, there are a heap of angara waiting to ask a heap of questions, so…”

“Wait. This,” he gestures between them, “is definitely flirting?”

She frowns at him. “Of course. That wasn’t clear?”

He shrugs. “Just checking. Since, apparently none of that went on during our first date. Which was news to me.”

“Again: not a date,” she sighs. “But also, um, honestly? I wanted to. Flirt, that is. On Habitat 7.”

“Well, shit,” he laughs. “Okay then. Good to know.”

***

“Are we going back to the ship?” Jaal asks as they make their way back to the Nomad.

“Nah,” she says. “Things is, I couldn’t get away with coming to Voeld just for ice-skating even though I did bullshit that it was ‘valuable R and R for the Pathfinder and team’. So… we’ve gotta do some work while we’re here.”

“Seems fair enough,” says Liam.

“Glad you think so. Priya’s wants us to track down some missing scientists and, going by their notes, I’m pretty sure there’s another architect out there.”

His eyes widen. “No way!”

She smiles. “Yes way.”

“Seriously, Avery,” he says, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her in close to his side as they walk. “Best date ever.”

When they get into the Nomad, Liam sits in the front passenger seat and, if she were the kind of person to cry when touched, she’d be a bawling fucking mess right now because… _Holy fucking shit. What a guy!_


End file.
